Category Archives: Uncategorized

Post navigation

What he actually means is give me some formal notice that he’s moved house. Phew. It’s all about the terminology Mr G!

I absolutely LOVE my little flat here in Cheltenham, it’s totally perfect for me. I’d love to own it actually, but a) I already own a house and b) that’s way too much commitment for me. Renting works for me right now.

It’s teeny tiny, in the roof of a villa and is my home. Filled with all my random crap and not always tidy, and probably the smallest place I’ve lived. But definitely my favourite. For sure.

Share this:

Like this:

Life after divorce (or a breakup). By the time you’re in your 30’s and having a relationship breakdown, marriage isn’t necessarily the default but chances are you’d got to a point in your relationship where you were the last ones in your friendship groups to tie the knot and both of you thought it was probably about time you spent thousands of ££ on a big party where you’d invite a load of people you probably won’t speak to 5 years on.

So, once you’ve paid out more thousands of ££ for solicitors to undo the bit that you signed before the big party, what do you do? Easy! Follow this guide* to getting through that breakup and starting life again (aka have a life crisis):

Get your hair cut in a new and funky style by the junior stylist (because the divorce wiped you out and you cant afford the salon director any more). Exclaim “it’s fab! Just what I always wanted!” with hysterical gusto while crying silently inside and wondering what your head would look like shaved.

Take up a sport. Doesn’t matter which one, just do something to help lose more weight in addition to the 3 stone you’ve already lost through stress and a diet of alcohol and biscuits.

Shag someone at least 10 years younger than yourself. Just remember not to engage them in conversation. Unless of course you do actually care about Justin Bieber or Harry Styles’s hairdo.

Go on Tinder and other online dating apps/websites. Spend a few days chatting to John from Peterborough because he’s the only person who has messaged you before you realise you don’t actually care about the steam engine show he went to at the weekend or how many cabbages he is growing. Realise you have lost all self respect and delete apps in a fit of self pity and loathing.

Join an internet forum based on shared interests. Realise after a week you have not slept or showered or gone to work, but you do have thousands of new friends who ‘get you’.

Wear short shorts. You’ve lost 3 stone through the breakup diet and realised you don’t give a fuck about anything any more.

Do household chores without any resentment towards the lazy shit you used to live with. Realise you actually like housework. Skip around with the hoover like Mary Poppins! Get bored and fed up. Give up on housework and eat biscuits instead when you remember the mantra ‘fuck the fucking housework’.

Eat pizza from the box. Because you can’t be arsed to wash a plate up and because your body is now craving carbs following the break up diet initial stages.

Don’t get dressed for 2 days. No one will see you! No one will judge, not even Phil the Postman. And besides, he likes your onesie, he said so that time.

Go to bed with your make up on. After all, you’ve given up dating after Peterborough John, so no one will see you in the morning. And besides, you’ve always admired the Absolutely Fabulous look.

Go on a singles holiday. All your mates are still married or have kids so you have no friends left anyway, so why not join other desperate singles trying to appear like they’re just there for a holiday and not there to find someone else to marry to avoid being alone for the rest of their lives.

Go on an activity holiday. You’ve given up on the singles holidays because Greg from Southampton mistook your ‘let’s have a nightcap’ drunken shout out in the bar for something completely different which then triggered an incident involving hotel security, a flannel, a bowler hat and some chocolate mousse. At least an activity holiday means you don’t have to pretend to be interested in Joanne’s stories from her time in the Accounting department at the local council because you’re too busy hanging off a rock the size of a pea on a cliff face while mentally chastising yourself for not making a will.

Shag someone from work. If you really want to keep things amusing try either someone from your own department or your boss. Or your boss’s boss. This way meetings will be interesting as you’ll just be picturing them naked.

Get a cat. Decide one cat isn’t enough. Get another one so they can occupy each other while you’re at work picturing your boss naked. Decide against getting another one because you realise you’re in danger of becoming crazy cat lady.

Contemplate getting a dog because you read somewhere it’s a good way to meet people. Realise you probably can’t get a dog because you now have cats. Read about a cat cafe. Decide to visit one as an alternative way to meet people. End up just meeting lots of crazy cat women.

Wonder how long your eggs have got left before they start shrivelling. Wonder about freezing them then realise how much that costs. Make a point of visiting friends with horrid children to put you off the idea of spawning.

Rediscover (or discover) tequila slammers. Who knew how much fun some salt, a lemon and some incredibly foul tasting alcohol could be?

Get hideously drunk at a wedding and behave inappropriately. Drink tequila slammers (because they’re fun, remember), fall over on the dance floor, fall off chairs, flash your knickers, kiss your friends uncle in front of the whole family including his children, leave your hand bag at the venue and make your friend homeless for the night, eat the whole cheeseboard even though you don’t like cheese and other things that you will never remember because you drank so much tequila. Just remember to mention you’re recently divorced/separated/single, because this may go some way to excusing your behaviour.

Spill red wine on sofa. Throw white wine on it. Clean it up as best you can. Realise it’s futile and that even if it cleaned up you’d probably just do it again. Go out and buy big cushions instead.

Cry for 3 days solid. Realise you’re crying more over a sofa than your ex. Realise you’ve turned a corner.

Try Zumba because Jill from Reception had a spare pass to the gym. Realise you have all the grace and finesse of a baby elephant but enjoy the hip wiggling and freestyle. Make friends with Claire and Sophie. Start going to fitness weekends at Butlins where you spend just as much time drinking Blossom Hill and dancing to 80’s tunes as you do going to Body Pump and Zumba.

Eat bowls of broccoli for tea. Spice things up with a few chilli flakes every now and then. Pride yourself on this ‘quick’ tea that does not involve anything beige from a freezer. while overlooking the lack of other essential nutrients in this diet. Mention said meal to friends who then start inviting you round for dinner more in exchange for juicy gossip and scandal.

Start to realise that life alone isn’t so bad. Ponder the thought that maybe you’ve had more fun in the last few months than you’ve had in a long time. Decide you’re in no hurry to get into another relationship, and that you and you alone are responsible for your own happiness.

Book another activity holiday, this time with sky diving. Hope that Greg from Southampton is still banned from booking with the same travel company.

*riseandshinepaps bears no responsibility to anyone following this (fictional, made up and completely tongue-in-cheek) guide and the characters above are completely fictional and bear no resemblance to anyone, living or dead (apart from 18. Yes, that was me. Oh, and 23.)

Share this:

Like this:

Right so let’s just say this; I’m not going to go through everything that has happened in 2015 because: 1) it would take too long, 2) I can’t remember everything without looking at my diary, 3) I can’t be arsed and need to get to sleep soon as I have a 5.30am alarm call and 4) I’ve had a couple of glasses of wine (I’m currently staying in South Africa in the WINE region, COME ON…) and it’s taking all my energy to type properly.

BUT.

What I can say is that 2015 has been pretty fucking awesome. A bit of a rollercoaster at times, but hey, isn’t that just life?

On 2nd January 2015 I moved myself and my meagre belongings in a van (first time driving a big van, and 9 hours driving in one day, the same 3 hour route 3 FUCKING times, ouch) to a place called Cheltenham. I didn’t really know the place, and only knew one person there. I figured it would be an adventure and it seemed like a place I’d like to live, and it wasn’t Lincoln. I actually didn’t think much further that than. It had hills and outdoor stuff, that seemed like generally enough to pique my interest.

And it has lived up to it’s expectations. To be fair, I didn’t have many. I was just pleased to be living by myself again and having my own place. After 2 years of travelling around and staying with people, it became pretty damn important to have a front door I could shut on the world. And I did when I first moved, I didn’t want to talk to anyone new for a couple of months. I was actually quite happy to not be doing this but it got to about March and I figured I really should. And I did, and I’m glad I did. I finish this year thinking about all the people I have met along the way, and there’s a lot, and it’s been, well, interesting. And special. I made more friends than I maybe thought, and I’ve met some pretty amazing people.

Because people are what make the world go round. Before I went travelling I used to read travel blogs that would always say “it’s the people you meet”. And I wondered what they meant. But now I know. When I was travelling, I DID meet some incredible people, and they’re some of my best memories of my year away. And this year, it’s been the same. I’ve done some cool stuff, but I’ve also met some cool people. Them, and their stories, is what life is all about.

Now don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my alone time (not to be confused with quiet time Donna, that’s different, although I obviously enjoy that too) and in fact, I really, really, really needed this bit of time right now where I’m travelling by myself and spending the majority of time alone. Yep, I love it and need it, and if I’ve been too busy and sociable I have to make sure I get some. 22 hours travelling to another country? YES – BLISS because I sit on a plane by myself and don’t have to speak to anyone. Yay.

But also I love people, I love being sociable. I love the more the merrier nights and bringing people together. I love a good chat, laugh and a beer. Standard.

So I guess I want to end 2015 saying a massive THANK YOU to everyone I know that touches my life in one way or another. And I think there’s a lot of people that maybe don’t realise they do. And I should tell them. Maybe not publicly here, or on Faceache or similar, but if there’s someone in your life that makes a difference, then tell them. I will be doing. You’ve made my 2015 special and brilliant.

I was looking to see what I posted last December but I didn’t write anything, I was having a blogging break if I remember. I did post in early February though. I even made some kind of plans and stuff to do in 2015. Ha, I’d totally forgotten those, and never looked back over them. Hmm, I didn’t get round to doing them all but I gave it a good crack. Some were a bit of pipe dream, and maybe stay on the list for next year. There’s some new stuff too. Should I write it down? Nah, I’ll leave it for later.

I end 2015 in South Africa; not somewhere I thought I’d be for a while (although I knew I’d be back, I kept the plug adaptor in the divorce settlement, haha) and spent New Years Eve taking a drive down to the coast and to the southernmost tip of Africa. Keeping my travelling itchy feet at bay for a little bit I hope, and getting some Africa sunsets. Not sure where I will end up in 2016 or what will happen but that’s all part of the adventure, and keeps my life interesting. I’ve got a few ideas but a year is a long time and a lot can change. So we’ll see.

I’m a change-anything-you’re-not-happy-with-any-time-you like person, but I do like the start of a new year to start some shit. Not resolutions as such, but just as good a time as any to punch the shit out of some stuff. This year, I start with the first few months dedicated to being healthier and getting fitter. I need to do some actual training for a bike ride I’m planning at Easter and if I don’t, then I’m going to suffer. So I better get my shizzle sorted. Anything else after that will be a bonus.

This is a bit of a rambly but short post, not quite with mega meaning or structure but I’m running out of time as I need to go to sleep as my alarm is going off tomorrow at 5.30am as I’m off on a big hike early to beat the fierce sun. This is probably the only year I’m starting as I mean to go on – healthy and not hungover!

But a couple of messages before I finish. Firstly, THANK YOU for reading. I write this blog mainly for myself as I just enjoy writing about whatever is in my head but if you like to read it then thanks, it means a lot. Two, the photo a day project is returning! Starting from tomorrow, I’ll post a picture a day. Might be a bit late over the next few days because of Africa wifi #TIA issues but they will be there. I did my last one in 2012 which for some reason a lot of people enjoyed. I suspect it’s because it was my first single year and so I did a lot of stuff and it was a bit all over the place. In a way I suspect this year might be a bit more settled/rounded although I actually probably do a lot more crazy/interesting stuff now.

Three, HAPPY NEW YEAR! Whether 2015 was amazing or shit for you, I wish you all the best in 2016. May you make it a year to remember. May it be filled with love, laughter and happiness. May you weather the storms with a smile and a laugh, and a determination that life will not beat you. Grab life by the balls and if you’re not sure about something, then maybe using my mantra will help:

Fuck it, do it.

Live life, don’t just exist. Don’t be scared to do anything, it’s never as bad as you think, and there are ALWAYS people looking out for you.

I’m sitting here tonight wanting to write a post about the end of an era – the sale of my childhood home. I kind of know what I want to write, and how I want to start it, yet the rest of words aren’t there quite yet in my head. So I’ll have to save that one for another time.

Instead, I’m listening to the album 21 by Adele. I know most of the songs off by heart, because I listened to this CD (yep, back in the shiny disc days) over and over again in my car driving to and from work when I was going through my separation (that and Katy Perry, but I’m after chilled out music right now). I’m thinking whether the songs are tainted now with those memories. Because well let’s face it, it was a pretty shitty time for me back then. Came to the conclusion that no they’re not now, but it’s taken a while. 4 years to be exact. I look back on it now like it was someone else’s life. Feels like a whole different lifetime ago, and I was a different person, just ask anyone that knew me back then. I don’t tend to try to look back too much, I’m a bit of a live in the moment kinda gal. I hate planning too far in advance and just tend to go with the flow, maxing out life where I can. But my ‘previous life’ seems to pop up loads, I can’t bloody escape it. I remember going to Peru in 2012, meeting lots of new people and my recent divorce would pop up in conversation, and I remember wanting to escape it. Thinking that it was just because it was so new, and such a big thing in my life back then and one day I could almost pretend it never happened. But I can’t. Now I’ve realised it’s likely to always crop up, for one reason or another. Whether meeting new people or chatting to old friends. And that pisses me off a bit. However. It’s made me who I am now. I can’t complain. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be the person I am now without going through all that.

Because you see, now I absolutely love the person who I am. I’m back to being me, true to myself and happy inside and out. In control of my life and my destiny. And having no idea what the future holds.

This weekend just gone was a bit of a whirlwind tour of London, Lincolnshire and Yorkshire. Loads of travelling and catching up with loads of mates and family. Squeezing in as many people as possible for a hello, cup of tea and good old chin wag. Reminiscing about old memories and catching up on life right now.

I have SO much to smile about right now it’s unreal. So many good things happening, so many awesome people in my life. So many exciting opportunities and possibilities there for the taking. Life is awesome.

Sorry, I have no idea on the point of this post, or the direction it’s taken.

I’m not sure what I’m trying to say, or whether anything is making any sense really. I’m very tired, I’ve not stopped for days and have driven so many hundreds of miles I don’t really know whether I’m coming or going. I guess mainly it’s that I’ve had a few days of revisiting old memories. It’s been great to see lots of lovely familiar faces. A visit to Lincoln always stirs up old memories, it always will. So much happened there.

But it’s also a reminder that everything changes – Note: Take That reference 😉 – and nothing stays still. As much as you might not want things to change, they will. It’s inevitable. No point in fighting it. Change is good. Change is exciting. But, it can also be scary. Frightening. Sad. A massive mixture of emotions. Just gotta roll with it. It’s how you deal with it that matters. All about how to think about stuff.

If you know anything about Buddhism, then a massive part of it is around impermanence. Worth reading up on if that’s your bag. I learnt about Buddhism, suffering, attachment, impermanence etc. when I did a 10 day silent retreat at a Buddhist meditation centre in India. Absolutely fascinating stuff, and helps with all kinds of shit in every day life for me. The point being that everything, and I mean everything, is not permanent. Is changing, every single second. Even that solid oak table. And if everything is changing, then nothing is permanent, and so how can you be attached to something that is changing all the time?

It’s all about how you look at things, and how you choose to react to them. What you let go, how to forgive and the difference between attachment and love.

On bar stools that is. They’re high. They’re all right if you’re drinking water, or orange juice, or coke. But not beer, wine or anything alcoholic (or if you’re just naturally accident prone). Because, then there’s every chance you could fall off one.

Like I did.

Last Saturday.

Picture it: Mardi Gras weekend in Sydney. The day started well. Me and Jason went for a massive Aussie breakfast in Bondi, then got the train to Circular Quay (the place where the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House are). A wander round The Rocks and a walk over the bridge later, it started to rain. By this time it was about 2pm I reckon, so we decided to go for a drink. The pub did jugs of beer. So, that’s what we drank. And we just kept going throughout the afternoon. Ahh, good old afternoon drinking sessions.

The unplanned ones are the best.

We had a ball. Chatting to loads of different people. I kept getting bought drinks by the random people I kept chatting to at the bar. People were trying to convince us that their mate was famous (he wasn’t). Lesbian hen parties wanted their picture taken with us. It was fun. Until, I fell. No idea how, or when, or what happened. Whether I just got off balance, got knocked by someone or what. Jason didn’t see it (just saw me in a crumpled heap on the floor). I don’t think I was that drunk, but yeah, I’d had a few. But, regardless of what happened, I messed up my elbow pretty bad and banged my knee.

But it wasn’t until the next day that everything started to hurt. My elbow looked the worse but actually isn’t that painful now. What is painful, is my ribs. I have no idea what I’ve done to them. Bruised, cracked or broken, I’m not sure. All I know is that my chest on my left side is agony, they’ve hurt since Sunday and they don’t seem to be getting much better. Any walking feels like I have an elephant on my chest poking my lung with a stick. I can’t walk up stairs very well because I get out of breath and then struggle to breathe as it hurts so much. I can’t straighten my back up because it all hurts. If I turn over in bed or get up from sitting down I get sharp shooting pains. I feel about 90 years old.

It’s not good. Mum, you probably shouldn’t show this blog post to Nan, she’ll only worry. In fact, maybe you shouldn’t read this one either. But I’m OK, really. I’m sure. Don’t worry.

But, I think I’m going to go and get checked out tomorrow. Just to be on the safe side, and also because I’m flying to New Zealand on Monday. Need to make sure I’m OK for that. I know there’s not a lot that can be done for ribs anyway, but would be good to just see what they say.

Yes, I know it was stupid. And yes, I know it’s my own fault. I’m not looking for sympathy, and I’m not excusing it, I’m just telling it how it is. I was irresponsible. I should know better, especially at my age. Yes, I know I shouldn’t have drunk so much. Maybe that caused it, maybe it didn’t, I don’t know. These things happen, I’m sure most people that go out drinking can relate to it (although maybe without the injury part).

It’s not big, and its not clever. But it happened. And I don’t do it that often. Sometimes it’s nice to have a blow out. Just not to be accompanied by accidents.

I’ll learn for next time. Maybe. And in the meantime, please don’t do what I did people. Because, I also missed Mardi Gras. Gutted.

Drink sensibly and responsibly. It’s the best way.

Edited 6th March to add : It turns out that after a day in A&E, a chest x-ray and having to wear a rather fetching hospital gown, I have broken a rib. No wonder it bloody hurt!!

Share this:

Like this:

Do you ever look in the mirror and not recognise what you see? And I don’t mean in a wanky self-reflective way. I mean in an actual I-don’t-recognise-myself way. I have it sometimes. I don’t know why, I mean, of course I know what I look like. Obviously. But maybe sometimes my brain forgets. Or what I think I look like isn’t quite the same as what I actually do. I had it today, this afternoon. I think it’s maybe because my hair is longer than it has been for years. It’s also a bit wavy now. It’s not been like this since I was about 10 years old I reckon.

I think it’s also because in my head I feel a different age to what I actually am. I saw some old friends tonight and we were talking about how old we feel. I think we all got stuck in our early twenties in our heads. Although sometimes when we get together I still feel like we are 15 and at school. That’s how I remember us all. So when I look in the mirror and see my 32 year old face looking back at me, it’s a bit strange.

Quite often I’ll see different things. Some days I’ll think I look tired. Sometimes I think I look old. Sometimes I think I look like either one of my nans. Or my dad (not great, he’s a bloke, but I can see some of his characteristics). Sometimes I wonder what I look like to other people. I remember when I was younger thinking people in their 30’s were OLD. But, I don’t feel old. I don’t think I look old most of the time.

I feel completely different to a couple of years ago and think I look quite different now too. But I forget that and surprise myself when I look in the mirror. I forget how much me and my life has changed over the last 18 months. Maybe it’s just taking time for my brain to catch up with everything.

Most importantly though, I like what I see in the mirror. Good days or bad days, it’s me. And I love me. So I’m happy.

Ironically/spookily/coincidentally, Justin Timberlake’s song Mirrors came on the TV when I was writing this. True story.

Share this:

Like this:

My new running trainers. They’re actually racing trainers, although I didn’t buy them for any races. They’re lighter than the ‘normal’ version of these (it came down to those two) so will help when I’m lugging my backpack around but again I didn’t buy them because of that. I bought them because they were the ones that felt the best. Pure and simple.

The fact that they are purple and look fucking ace is a bit of a bonus 😀

Share this:

Like this:

I love living in Lincoln. It’s a fab little city. [Pretty much] everywhere is within walking distance, there’s lots to see and do. The Bailgate is my favourite bit. It’s old, wonky, pretty and higgledy piggledy. Loads of nice buildings to look at, and of course, The Cathedral. The thing that you can see from miles away. That when you see it, you know you’re nearly home.

Yesterday the sun was out. Had a nice walk up to the top of Steep Hill to a new fudge shop (sea salt fudge=Amazing) and a beer by the Brayford. It was almost like summer. But not quite so warm. I’m going to miss Lincoln. Especially this summer. Wandering around all the little streets, taking photos, running round by the Cathedral and lazing around in the beer gardens.